


Past the bedrock

by 00FFFF



Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Angst/Tragedy, Body Horror, Gen, Loss of Limbs, Mushrooms, Non-human hermits - Freeform, Plant Gore, The Nether, Transformation, petrification, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00FFFF/pseuds/00FFFF
Summary: What if the Nether is more dangerous than they originally thought?Xisuma goes missing. Horribly unprepared for the horrors that they are about to face, the hermits set off into the mysteriously changing dimension to find him.
Comments: 143
Kudos: 167
Collections: Non-human Hermits





	1. New nature

It’s cold.

It’s so cold.

Xisuma doesn’t know when it started, but the chill he feels in his bones has only gotten stronger and stronger in the past few days.

It was fine, at first. He liked coming up with a design for a new cozy fireplace. He liked collecting wood to burn at night, sitting close to the fire and warming up, even though he’s settled in the jungle biome. Even though he used to have to  _ cool down _ after a long day of work.

He’s just... cold, all the time. He’s cold as he wakes up next to the remains of a warm fire, and decides that, before he’ll continue work on his newest farm, he’ll collect a few more logs for tonight.

Xisuma passes his Nether portal on his way out, and is it just him, or are the noises it makes a lot louder than before?

He shrugs it off and walks away, but then he begins to feel this, this  _ pull. _

_ Come,  _ it tells him.  _ It’s warm in here. You belong in here. _

Xisuma ignores it as best he can, focussing on chopping trees and working out how much he’ll need to spend at the Redzone shop for his new project. He doesn’t even look at his portal when he arrives back home, instead heading straight for his fireplace.

Once the fire is roaring comfortably, Xisuma leans back in his chair. This gives him some time to think. He hasn’t used the Nether in a while, has he? The space underneath the roof of the Nether, that is. None of the hermits have. It wasn’t until Joe mentioned something about the landscape changing,  _ warping, _ that Xisuma started to worry. 

So, he tries to stay out of there as much as possible. Sure, it’s a hassle and a waste of rockets to fly everywhere, and repairing it so often in the absolutely  _ freezing  _ temperature of the End isn’t something he’d call a favourite pastime, but it’s better than the uneasy feeling the purple swirling portals give him.

He bears the constant shivering. The cold that chills him to his very bones, which doesn’t seem to drain away as time goes on. He bears it all, even if he doesn’t know the consequences. It’s nothing, he keeps telling himself. He’s just cold, there’s nothing wrong with that!

Still, one day it just... slips his mind. Maybe he fell back into an old habit, maybe the cold finally got the better of him, he doesn’t know. But before his conscious mind could react, he had stepped into his portal, and ended up in the other dimension.

And for the first time since this all began, he feels like he can  _ breathe.  _

The usually hot and humid air feels surprisingly calming, and the pleasant temperature warms him deeper than any fire could. He stays there for what feels like only a short moment, just basking in the comfortable silence on top of the Nether roof. 

Until the hermits start to get worried and come looking for him.

Only once the cold overworld air hits his face again does he come back to his senses.  _ How long were you down there? What were you doing? You told us not to go to the Nether, so why were you just standing there?  _ Xisuma shivers as he tries to answer everybody’s questions, but it’s late and he wants to go home and curl up by his fireplace.

Distractedly, he tells the hermits that the Nether is off-limits from now on. Something is happening to him, and to the Nether, and he doesn’t know what. So until he  _ does  _ know, everybody is to stay out. No exceptions.

Once he’s back home (thanks to Tango and his amazing flying expertise), Xisuma settles down and tries to figure out what’s going on. He pulls up his admin screens and gets to work, but even as he’s sat next to what would normally be an almost dangerously big fire, the cold biting at his skin becomes more and more intense. 

Blanket after blanket he steals from various different beds, but nothing helps. Xisuma shifts uncomfortably and tries to focus on the task at hand, but the cold only gets worse and starts to affect him so much that he can’t focus anymore. The letters and numbers on his screens start to blend together, the soft light they give off burning his eyes.

Xisuma closes his screens and crawls closer to the fire, breathing out small puffs of air as he falls asleep.

_ What are you doing up there? You’re going to die. You don’t want to die, do you? You belong here. Come home. _

The following morning the chat is filled with many concerning messages. That is, Xisuma knows they  _ should  _ worry him, but... it’s like the gravity of it all won’t settle in his mind. 

He supposes the hermits all must feel a little uneasy with everything that’s happened yesterday, and the fact that they’re reporting an uneasy feeling, a  _ pull _ of some sorts coming from their own Nether portals is quite unsettling.

Xisuma knows that this is bad, and yet... something tells him that it’s all going to be fine. It was always meant to go this way. If  _ all _ the hermits feel it, then they can live together down there, right? Is that really a problem? No. Then why is he resisting it so badly?

He stays holed up inside his base for the rest of the day. The messages in chat don’t faze him anymore. Xisuma tries to do something,  _ anything  _ else other than burn wood and stare into the fire, but he finds multitasking to be quite... exhausting. Mentally taxing. 

Night falls before he knows it, and the swirling sounds of the portal outside are calling for him once again, now completely flooding his thoughts. 

It’s unbearable. The noise, the worry, the biting  _ cold...  _

_ It’ll all be better once you step inside, you know.  _

Xisuma swoops down and walks up to his giant portal. Its call seems... happier, somehow. Welcoming, even.

Hoping,  _ praying _ that the hermits won’t come looking for him a second time, Xisuma slips into the portal. 

It’s warm. It’s quiet. His worrying thoughts dissipate. 

Finally, he stops shivering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is something small I'm working on in between projects, so I hope you'll enjoy all that's to come :D!


	2. Quicksand

Tango takes a shaky breath. He, Bdubs, Iskall, and Jevin stand before Xisuma’s sealed portal. Convinced that if they’re together they’ll be safe, they all volunteered to go in and find their admin. 

It’s dangerous, they know, but they also know that they can’t live without him. Xisuma had disappeared once already, and those were some of the most terrifying few days on the server. Not because it was their admin that was missing, but their _friend._

They’ll find him. They’re more than capable to conquer the new Nether. So no matter what they’ll find down there, they’ll find him, or die trying. The others have cast their doubts about the chances, but Tango knows, he _knows_ that Xisuma is in there. 

He’s calling for him.

The four of them look at each other, nod, and then step through the portal.

It’s a strange sensation. Traveling through dimensions never felt _good,_ per se, but since when does it feel like coming _home?_ Tango tries to ignore the unusual feeling as he rematerialzes on the other side. He looks around, seeing that they didn’t appear on top of the Nether like before. Instead, they’re somewhere underground, plain old red netherrack surrounding them on all sides.

Jevin puffs up his chest a little bit, and Iskall adjusts his mechanical eye. Bdubs has disappeared from his sight, but moments later Tango hears his voice from behind the portal.

“There’s some sort of tunnel over here, guys! He must have gone this way!”

It’s a narrow tunnel, only one block wide and two blocks tall, but it’s enough for them to walk through. Tango pulls out his sword, going in last. 

They follow the tunnel all the way out for what feels like hundreds of blocks straight, until they suddenly stop and Tango bumps into Bdubs’ back.

“What’s up?” Tango asks.

“The tunnel ends here.” Iskall says. “It opens up into some sort of... chasm? I think? Everybody got their elytra ready? We’re gonna have to drop down.”

Tango nods and fastens his elytra. One by one the hermits jump from the netherrack tunnel into the open air, swooping down. 

Once it’s Tango’s turn he stops for a moment, taken aback by the sight of the usually hellish landscape. It’s... it’s different. They are in what looks like a huge opening, a pocket of air, with all kinds of new blocks and materials as far as the eye can see. 

The sky isn’t red, he notices. It’s _purple,_ fading into an almost electric blue in the distance. Pillars of grey stone hold up what looks to be a dark stone ceiling, and beneath them valleys of soul sand go on for what must be miles. They’re quite high up too, Tango realizes.

Seeing his fellow hermits waving at him from below shakes him from his trance, and he jumps. He descends slowly, circling down as he takes in as much as he can of the new Nether.

He lands with a soft thud in the sand, sending dark particles flying up. The four of them try to orient themselves whilst simultaneously trying to work out a plan to figure out where Xisuma could have gone. 

“Now, let’s not forget why we came here. It looks like things have changed, but our first priority should be to find X.” Iskall says, taking the lead. “We can marvel at the surroundings later, okay? We don’t know how dangerous it is yet.” He directs that last part at Tango, and he can only nod at Iskalls words. He’s right. They need to stick to their plan.

Tango wills himself to look at the ground, to not get lost in the deep colors and mysterious landscapes all around. The sand underneath his feet appears to move and gather in strange yet intricate patterns. Almost like an optical illusion. Huh, did soul sand always look this fascinating? Tango supposes he just never took the time to really look.

“My messages won’t send.” Jevin says, prompting Tango to look up from the ground. “It’s like there’s no connection to the overworld at all.”

“That’s new. That’s actually quite concerning, but it would explain Xisuma not replying to all our messages. He must be down here.”

A wind blows past, carrying whispers with it which seem to infiltrate Tango’s mind. They’re nowhere and all around him at once, speaking in a language which seems familiar and yet is unrecognizable. Their tone, their words are alluring, nonetheless.

“Guys, I think I might have found something.” Iskall says, pointing towards something in the sand. Tango walks over and looks closely, even squinting his eyes but can’t see what he’s pointing at. He just sees more of those unique patterns, the sand appearing to lap at his feet.

Bdubs and Jevin can see it, apparently. They gasp and follow the invisible trail with their eyes off into the distance. Deeper into the valley. 

“Footprints.”

“Looks like we’re on the right track.” Bdubs smiles and Iskall goes to lead the way. Tango resigns himself to the situation and decides to just follow them.

They trek slowly through the sand, their steps slowed as normal. They’d fly, but they wouldn’t be able to see the tracks from up high, so they stick to the ground, avoiding the blue colored fires which seem spread around randomly. 

Tango’s steps feel slower than usual. His feet seem to drag on in the sand, sinking deeper and deeper with each step he takes, requiring more and more energy to keep on moving. His pace drops all the while keeping his eyes stuck to the ground. Those patterns that are now forming faces. Wide, empty eyes staring back at him, with open mouths, stuck in eternal screams. If he closes his eyes he can hear them better. Their whispers become louder, occasionally screaming to match their images in the sand.

“Hey Tango! Slowpoke!” Jevin jokes. “It’s only soul sand, keep up, dude!”

Tango shoots him a smile, being pulled from his thoughts once again. Still, those voices, those whispers don’t leave his mind. He runs up to the other hermits but falters behind again soon. They go deeper and deeper into the valley, and Tango can only trust the others that they’re following the right tracks.

The valley seems to go on forever. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but it feels like an eternity. Tango has to really push himself to keep up with the group. He doesn’t understand- why is he so slow? Why can’t he keep his head clear? He keeps losing track, staring at the particles dancing in the warm winds, listening to the bubbling lava in the distance, the ambient noises swirling in his mind, complementing the whispers from below as they drown out the others’ light banter.

Then, suddenly, his legs give in and he collapses, barely making enough noise for the others to notice and turn around. He can’t bring himself to make any noise. He hasn’t spoken in a while, actually. It feels so... so taxing. He buries his hands into the cool sand. It’s... calming. It feels grounding. Alive. He can feel the hermits shake him and trying to get him to get up, but he feels sluggish. He can see them but their faces are fuzzy. He knows they’re yelling but he can’t hear them over the echoing screams. He’s so tired, haven’t they walked far enough? He wants to sleep... He wants to... rest…

“Tango? Tango, please say something, Tango!” Bdubs’ knuckles turn white from how tightly he’s gripping onto Tango’s jacket.

He doesn’t answer. His eyes seem to stare right through him. Tango opens his mouth but the only thing that comes out is a stream of dark _sand._

Panicked, Bdubs lets go of him, and Tango collapses into the sand once more. Iskall grabs one shoulder to hold him up, and with his other hand he grabs one of Tango’s wrists. As he pulls it out of the sand it dissolves into the same dark substance, falling to the ground. Falling into those same intricate patterns. Indistinguishable from the other soul sand. 

No. _No!_

Bdubs goes back to clawing at Tango’s body. 

But each part he claws at crumbles underneath his touch. Bdubs holds him tighter, closer, trying desperately to hold onto him, to get him _out of here,_ but Tango’s body, his clothes, even his weapons all fall apart, turning to dust.

Not dust. Sand. _Soul sand._

His eyes are hazy and appear to look off into the distance. They’re- they’re turning _blue._

“Tango, _please!”_

Somebody begins to pull him back. “Bdubs! We have to get out of here, it’s not safe!”

“No!” He yells, squirming in their grip to get back to Tango’s dissolving body. Iskall and Jevin pull harder. Are they just going to _leave_ him here? They can’t-! 

What’s left of Tango’s body collapses under its own weight, crumbling into the same dark sand as it spills down, shifting and moving until there’s not a trace of him left.

Bdubs digs into the ground, desperate. _Give him back! Give him back, give him back!_

“Bdubs, let go. There’s nothing we can do.”

 _No!_ Bdubs swears he can still hear his voice. Calling out for him. _He’s still here, he’s not- He’s not dead yet! We can still-_

But the two other hermits deploy their elytras and take off, Bdubs in their arms. He yells, staring back at where moments ago Tango still was. His friend. A _hermit._

_There’s nothing you can do._

The weight of the situation starts to wear him out, hopelessness eating away at his adrenaline faster than a boat on blue ice. He stops squirming, stops struggling, and lets himself be carried away.

He looks back at the seemingly endless valley of soul sand as it disappears into a deep red fog.

_Tango... Xisuma..._

Moments ago they were trekking through the sand. Everything was alright. They were going to succeed. They were all _fine._ _  
_ How did it all go south so quickly?

Bdubs wipes at his eyes, feeling his tears mix with some of the sand left on his hands.

The image of Tango’s face burned into his eyes.

Oh god, his _eyes._ Dead and empty and electric blue, just like…

Bdubs looks back at the valley. If he squints he can see a single blue flame flickering in the distance, right where Tango collapsed. 

That blue flame is all that remains. All that’s left of him.

He can’t hear his voice anymore.


	3. Comestible

They’ve flown for what must be hundreds of blocks. It’s hard to tell with all the lava around, in all honesty. Bdubs doesn’t know why he isn’t flying himself, why he’s being carried by his two friends. But he isn’t going to complain. There’s no way for them to reliably restore the durability of their elytra, so this is better than all three of them using theirs, he supposes

Soon he hears Iskall and Jevin huff, meaning that they must be getting tired. Bdubs himself feels kind of strange, too. Like half only half of his mind is really here, and his other half is out there, somewhere, thinking about god knows what. It feels... foggy. His thoughts feel foggy.

He doesn’t get a chance to dwell on the state of his mind for too long, as he sees the ground come closer and closer. They’re landing. It’s not as smooth as one would have hoped, with Bdubs clung between their arms, and their coordination could use some work, but he doesn’t say anything. They’ve experienced enough already. 

What that is, though, Bdubs can’t say. He can’t for the life of him remember why they had to flee. What was so scary? Was there a mob chasing them? Bdubs turns around to face the other two hermits, both of them wearing an equally concerned look on their face.

“Bdubs? Are you alright?” Iskall asks.

Huh? Bdubs cocks his head sideways. “What do you mean?”

“The... the thing that happened earlier. In the valley. You seem to have calmed down, but...”

Bdubs furrows his brows. _The valley..._ It sounds... important, but he- he can’t remember. _He can’t remember._

“I don’t- I don’t remember. I can’t remember, Iskall, I-” His breathing becomes shallow and he can feel his knees give out underneath him. Before he can hit the ground Iskall has his arms wrapped around him, keeping him up.

“Hey, hey... it’s not your fault. Maybe... maybe it’s best that you don’t remember.” Iskall says softly, rubbing soothing circles into his back with a steady, albeit shaky hand.

“I just- what are we doing here? Why are we in the Nether, again? We were... we were looking for someone.” Bdubs frees himself from Iskall’s grip, however nice it was to be embraced. He looks around, looks at the strange red trees in the distance, at the deep red fog, turning almost grey in color up the side of what looks to be a steep cliff. He can hear the bubbling of lava, can feel its heat all around him. The Nether didn’t always look like this, did it?

“Xisuma.” Jevin says, catching Bdubs’ attention. The blue slime-man appears to be frantically brushing any particles from his armor, checking under his shoes again and again. “We’re looking for our admin.” 

His response was perhaps a bit too rude for Bdubs’ liking, but he guesses he can’t blame him. It looks like they went through something... something _traumatic,_ he supposes. Still, that name, ‘Xisuma’... It doesn’t sound _real._

“Well, we’re here, we might as well see if we can get back on track.” Iskall says. “Let’s stick together, we can’t afford to lose anybody, okay?” Jevin and Bdubs both nod, and then they’re off. Looking around the haunting landscapes, searching for tracks, calling Xisuma’s name occasionally. 

They hide by digging into the netherrack walls when they hear the chirps of a ghast, and they deliberately avoid walking on sand. Searching, or even making their own alternative paths to go around the stuff. The trek through the hellish landscape is awfully silent, with few words spoken between the three men. Apart from the purring ghasts and the occasional grumble from Bdubs’ stomach, it’s pretty quiet. 

This leaves room for many thoughts to flow, such as _how far did they go? Why can’t he remember what happened earlier? And what exactly happened that caused him to forget?_

All the while Bdubs chomps on golden carrot after golden carrot, but nothing seems to satiate him. His stomach keeps growling, to the point where he’s practically stuffing the veggies down his throat and Iskall has to stop him.

“Dude, seriously, are you okay? You seem off.”

Bdubs shakes his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. “I don’t know, I- There’s just a, a _chunk_ of memories missing. It freaks me out, frankly, and I don’t know where we’re going or even why we’re trying to find this ‘Zizuma’ guy. I guess I... I feel like something’s wrong. I don’t know.”

Iskall looks into Bdubs’ eyes with concern, but he averts his eyes in favor of staring at the ground. The red grass-like stuff looks pretty nice.

Jevin turns around and sighs. “Maybe we should head back. I don’t like what’s going on here.” He gestures towards Bdubs. “He hasn’t even got proper armor!” 

Iskall rubs his temples and closes his eyes for a moment. “...Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. We should go back to zero zero, go back to the overworld, and come back more prepared. We need...” He trails off. “We need to tell the other hermits what happened.”

Jevin nods at him firmly and grabs his communicator. “We’re quite far off, but we should be able to get back by foot. Let’s go, the faster we’re out of here the better.”

They start walking back the way they came, and something tugs at Bdubs, tells him that _no,_ this is not the way they’re supposed to be going. _They’re supposed to stay! They’re not supposed to leave!_ But... these are his friends, no? They must know what they’re talking about. Their memories are intact, for one. They know what happened. They know what they’re doing.

Bdubs takes a deep breath and starts following them, trailing behind only ever so slightly. He takes note of the squishy ground underneath his feet. It feels funny. He wants to touch it, but something tells him that Iskall and Jevin wouldn’t like him doing that. Stupid.

After a good while of walking, traversing precarious 1-block wide bridges, and sparing usage of their elytras, they reach the edge of another red forest-like biome. Bdubs is about to march in when Iskall pulls him back by his shoulder. 

“There could be mobs in there. It’s too dense to protect ourselves if we get attacked.” He says. “I say we go around.”

Jevin casts another glance at his communicator. “We’re still miles away, we won’t make any progress if we do.”

“There’s got to be another w-”

“Do you _see_ another way? I don’t know about you, but my elytra is almost broken, and I’m not going to risk flying over any lava lakes if we don’t have to. We have to go through.”

Iskall sighs. “It just- it scares me. I don’t know why.”

Out of the corner of his eyes Bdubs spots movement. Something rather big, and... _pink?_

“Guys, I think I saw something.”

The two hermits turn their heads to peer into the forest. Nothing. Whatever it was might be hiding behind a tree.

“What’d you see?”

“I’m note sure. It was vaguely human-sized and _pink.”_

“Like a zombie pigman?”

“Kinda, but... not zombified? Does that make sense?”

“So just... a normal pigman?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“D’you think they’re hostile?”

“Only one way to find out.” Bdubs says and he takes another step forwards, only to be stopped by Iskall once again.

“Dude, what are you so afraid of? It’s _fine!_ Hide behind me if you want, I’m going in.” He tugs himself loose from Iskall’s grip and stubbornly marches forward. He hasn’t seen anything quite like these trees, and frankly, he wants to see them from up close. Just imagine the color wood they would produce! The builds he could make with them... a whole new world of possibilities could open up for him!

Bdubs brushes some dangling red vines aside, wincing at the small thorns poking into his hand, and steps into a little clearing. Something about the sight, being _inside_ of this strange forest is calming to him. He hears more of those pig-like creatures scuttle around, and moments after he sees Iskall and Jevin join him, looking around with equal parts fascination and fear.

The ground they’re standing on feels surprisingly soft, like... like Bdubs could sink right into it. If he looks closer he notices how much it looks like the mushroom-y stuff from the shopping district. Like Nether mycelium. Nycelium? It’s even more squishy than he would have thought at first sight, which is kinda funny to him. It’s a funny sensation.

As the three hermits get ready to trek through the dense forest, those pigmen slowly start to show themselves. They look intrigued, something in their beady black eyes glistening as they take in the sight of the intruders. Bdubs can feel their eyes in the back of his head, but it isn’t until a smaller one pops up in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere, that he actually stops in his tracks.

Iskall and Jevin almost bump into him, but he can’t actually see their annoyed faces behind him, nor does he take note of their huffs of displeasure.

“Hey there little guy!” He directs towards the smaller pigman, who gives him a small squeal and a grunt in response. It doesn’t seem hostile at all, which prompts Bdubs to crouch down and smile at the creature.

It points at his head, and Bdubs is taken aback a bit. He looks at his fellow hermits. “I think he likes me!” he says softly, before turning his attention back to the small pigman in front of him. It points at his head again, grunting. 

Bdubs feels puzzled, his thoughts lagging behind for a moment before he connects the dots. “My helmet?” He points at his headwear, and the little pig squeals at a higher pitch, bouncing on its toes (or are they hooves? Bdubs isn’t sure). 

“You like that? It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He laughs, and then turns around to meet Iskall and Jevin’s eyes again. 

“And you guys laughed at me for my choice in armor! I knew it’d be useful!”

Thankfully their anxious expressions fade and make way for two soft chuckles. Bdubs can almost physically feel any and all tension lift from his shoulders, the soft snorts from the semi-familiar creature in front of him practically melting his heart.

“You wanna try it on?” He asks it, already bringing his hands up to remove his helmet.

But as soon as he does so the little pig creature starts squealing and grunting, louder and definitely angrier than before. In a split second they’re surrounded by larger, adult pigmen, all of whom point their rusty golden swords at them threateningly.

They only need to hear the little guy squeal once more and the pigmen are charging at them. Bdubs is taken by surprise and tumbles to the ground due to a lack of balance. He sees Iskall and Jevin both pull out their diamond swords before he feels the rusty point of a sword jammed in his hand.

He barely gets the chance to scream (for help nor because of the pain), for when he opens his mouth something is pushed inside and wrapped around his face. It’s long and red and has spikes, or thorns rather, which dig into his skin painfully.   
More and more vines are wrapped around him and soon Bdubs is completely entangled in the stuff. Bound. Caught. The pigmen forcefully grab him, pulling him to his feet, and then begin prodding his back with the ends of their swords, forcing him to walk. Bdubs huffs but finally gives in, letting himself be led away from the impromptu battlefield.

They don’t walk for long, but it’s scary how quickly Bdubs can’t hear the sword fighting anymore. Jevin and Iskall... are they still here? Did they manage to get out safely? Did they even see him being taken away? He just hopes... he just hopes that they’re able to find their other friend. What was his name again? Zi- Sisu-? He doesn’t know. It’s so quiet... Sounds must travel differently in between all this vegetation. 

To top it all off walking becomes increasingly more difficult with each step he takes. It’s like... no, the vines _are_ constricting him tighter and tighter. Their thorns _are_ digging deeper into his skin with each second. He can feel them drawing blood, absorbing it at the same time, sapping his energy.

Two hooves against his back push him down to the ground and Bdubs hits his head against a nasty edge of netherrack. At least the pigmen have the courtesy to roll him onto his back, so he can at least breathe somewhat properly.

Bdubs squirms against his restraints, tries desperately to get up, but combined with the dizziness and... _something else,_ his panic is but short lived. He sighs and lets himself sink further into the netherrack, resting his head back against the block behind him. His arms are bound to the sides of his body, now resting onto the ground below. Bdubs feels heavy. His limbs feel heavy. Even if he wasn’t tied up, he’s sure that he wouldn’t be able to move in the slightest. 

He almost forgets about the vines constricting him until they squeeze so tight he can’t feel them anymore. It’s like they’re _alive,_ purposefully digging into his flesh, squirming around inside his organs and causing more of his blood to spill for good measure, before they twist and dig into the ground.

Bdubs would turn his head to look, to confirm his worrying thoughts, but he can’t manage to. He’s stuck.

A small part of his mind argues that this is _wrong,_ so very _wrong,_ But he... that’s silly. Why would he worry about that? He can feel the vines, or roots, rather, dig further and further into the ground. Not binding him, but _securing_ him. He wants to grow big, doesn’t he? He needs a strong foundation to be able to do that, no? He doesn’t feel hungry anymore, the growling in his stomach dissolving into a pleasant rush of energy. Saturated.

It’s... nice, in a perverted way. The vines digging through his body, attaching themselves to him, sapping his life force away whilst simultaneously replacing it. He can only watch from the corner of his eyes as the red mycelium spreads further, claiming his skin, his clothes, his entire _body._ Becoming a part of him. He watches small plants and mushrooms sprout from within. _This is good. This is how life is supposed to work._

The vines start to climb up, growing taller and taller. He can... he can _feel_ the soft breeze of the Nether against the thorns. Where does his body end and the plants begin, again? They’re growing out of him. Leeching off of his warmth, his body. He himself decaying and growing at the same time. 

Bdubs is still breathing, he can tell. His breaths are shallow, but still there. Which is silly to him. This is all so silly! Plants aren’t supposed to _breathe!_ They’re not supposed to be able to see, hear, and smell. And they certainly aren’t supposed to _think._ It’ll be better once the mycelium covers his face, he knows. Then he won’t have to bother with such meaningless tasks anymore. Then he can focus on what he’s meant for: growing.

But for now even closing his eyes seems impossible, so until then he can only watch as the plant life claims more of him, rightfully so. He watches as time appears to speed up, mushrooms and vines growing in fast-forward. How long has it been? How long has he been here? He feels so, so big but at the same time so very _small._

Bdubs keeps watching. Watching himself grow tall and strong, planted firmly in the ground, the welcoming soil underneath him. It’s nice and warm, and he feels full of life. 

He becomes the forest again, and the forest becomes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how’d that forest get so red in the first place?


	4. Guilted

Shit. Shit, shit shit this is bad. This is _so bad._

Iskall can barely keep himself together. He trips over some loose rocks, clutching the bleeding gash wound in his arm as he tries to regain his balance, sweat dripping down his forehead.

He lost them. He lost all of them. 

First Xisuma, then Tango, and now Bdubs and Jevin... _Damn it._ He could have done something. He _should_ have done something. Those... those pigmen put up a surprisingly good fight. They drove him and Jevin apart, chased them to opposite sides of the forest before they got a hit on Iskall and he had to run. He flew off, fully knowing that his elytra was being held together by nothing but string.

They caught him off guard and that had cost him everything. He should have fought harder. He could have taken them, he-

He knows that, and still he did it. He ran. He ran away like a coward. And now those pigmen have Bdubs, and Jevin too, possibly. Lord knows what they’re going to do to them. Oh god... 

Iskall was right about the forest. He knows that, but it hurts. Why did he let Bdubs go in? Why didn’t he try _harder?_ Could he have stopped him? He should have tried harder. Are they still there? He saw what happened to Tango. What if- what if the same thing happened to Bdubs? Iskall doesn’t want to think about it. He’s responsible for this. He volunteered to go into the Nether first, after which his three friends followed. They followed him. This is all his fault. This is all _his_ fault.

His only hope now is finding Xisuma. If he, by some miraculous chance manages to find him, all of this could be reversed. Xisuma could bring them all back safely. He just has to find him, then it’ll all be okay. It’ll all be okay.

Iskall grabs his communicator to look at his coordinates again. That’s... worrying. He’s _farther away_ than before. He could have sworn that he was walking back towards the Nether portal. How did he end up so far away?

He looks around. How did he manage to walk such a great distance and not even notice his surroundings? This is not good. He could have- he could have fallen into a lava pit and not even noticed until it was too late! _Get it together, Iskall._ He slaps himself in the face. _You have to get back. Back to the portal. Come on._

His elytra is still broken, of course. But he has an inventory full of blocks. He can build his back back up. He can still get out of here, he can get help from the other hermits, and then they can come back and find the others. If only his eye still worked. It must have malfunctioned due to the heat or something.

Iskall turns on his heels and starts walking back down the hill he apparently climbed. This time he keeps his eyes on his surroundings, cautious of dense vegetation and valleys of sand. He walks until he can’t feel his legs anymore, until he can’t hear his stomach growling, until the blood on his arm is caked and dry. He keeps walking, checking his communicator more and more frequently to make sure he’s headed in the right direction.

He’d hoped that, since they are both in the Nether, that he could at least message Jevin, but alas, he has no such luck. None of his messages will send.

As he keeps treading unknown territory, wary of each step he takes, Iskall comes across a... a structure? He stops in his path to examine the looming black building. It’s more like a cube, actually. Definitely not something naturally generated. Then, does that mean that there’s _people_ here? There’s others?! Cautious, yet filled with hope, Iskall approaches the structure.

As he comes closer he sees that the cube opens up into a strange form of, of a fortress, he supposes. The build appears to be built on top of a lava lake, the hot liquid casting light onto the dark bricks from below. Iskall can’t help but feel _drawn_ to the thing. He’s never seen anything like it before, and it feels strangely inviting for how dark and ominous it looks.

The strangely humid air carries a breeze that almost seems to whisper to him.

_It’s in here._

_What you’re looking for is in here._

Iskall stops in his tracks. It... he... Xisuma? Xisuma is _in there?_ Iskall feels his heartbeat pick up with _hope._ Hope that this gruelling journey is finally over. He found him. He’s here. He can bring everybody back and they’ll return to the overworld and they’ll all be _safe._

A pang of something takes his breath away. _Away?_ He doesn’t want to go away. It’s... it’s nice here, isn’t it? Iskall takes a deep breath and rubs his temples. He doesn’t want to argue with himself when he should be looking for Xisuma. Xisuma first, he’ll worry about what happens next after.

Iskall bridges over to the dark build with his last bits of cobblestone, and tests out his pick on the dark bricks. They crumble in an interesting pattern, but Iskall is able to mine and pick the blocks up quite easily. He digs his way in through the thick walls, replacing the bricks behind him as to not alert or possibly anger whoever it is that lives here. Then he starts making his way down, sticking to the left wall. 

The path spirals around the outer edge of the fortress, going down and up a few blocks every so often, seemingly without rhyme or reason. It’s tough to orient himself, each branching pathway looks the same. How many times has he seen this intersection now? When Iskall reaches a window of sorts, opening up to the inside of the build, looking out over the lava lake in the middle, he can spot movement. Creatures. _Pigmen._

How hasn’t he spotted them before?! They made an awful lot of noise back at the forest! He can’t let them see him. _Shit._ Iskall is reminded of the gash wound in his arm. It looks nasty. Wrong. He can’t take them like this, he’s not ready. And as if to taunt him specifically, one of those pigmen appears around corner on the far end of the hallway, holding a golden sword at the ready.

Gold. They didn’t attack them before because Bdubs wasn’t wearing gold. Iskall doesn’t have anything, he’s powerless. He’s got the best armor diamonds can get him, and they still kicked his ass. He’s not prepared for another fight, let alone with so many other creatures around, ready to destroy him once they hear all the commotion. This is bad. This is really, really bad.

But before Iskall even has a chance to think about how and where to hide, the pigman walks past him, barely even acknowledging Iskall’s existence. _Huh?_ Didn’t- wasn’t it supposed to attack? Iskall doesn’t understand. He saw what happened once Bdubs took his helmet off. This wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?

Iskall risks another peek into the middle of the fortress, looking down. There's narrow pathways leading up to what looks like a cage. A cell, maybe? He can’t see what they’re keeping in there from up here, but whatever it is, it must be important.

_Maybe Xisuma’s in there._ Iskall thinks, and immediately he’s filled with this rush, this _need_ to get there as soon as possible. He turns around to make his way further down but almost bumps into another pigman. It grunts softly and just keeps on walking. Well, Iskall’s not going to question it any further if it helps him to get to Xisuma. If it keeps him safe.

So he keeps walking as well, going in whichever direction feels right. The dark halls are lit up in a strange way, Iskall notices. The lava from below bouncing off of the bricks in an interesting pattern, reflecting off of cracks in the walls which appear to light up as Iskall looks at them. 

Each pigman he passes just. Ignores him. Like he doesn’t even exist. He isn’t invisible, is he? Iskall holds up his arms but no, he can see himself. He clenches and unclenches his hands into fists, inspecting every bit of his skin. His arms look strangely dark in this lighting, but he’s definitely visible. 

Iskall keeps delving further down, checking and double checking every single hallway, but he can’t manage to find the one path that leads up to the middle section of the fortress. There- there’s no trace of Xisuma anywhere. Iskall can’t even hear his own voice calling for him, like all the sounds are snuffed out before they can reach his ears. There’s no indication for where to go, this place is like a _maze._

His steps are slower and slower. Iskall bites down on his last few golden carrots to keep him going, but it only feels as if they’re slowing him down even _more._ He’s lost. All the walls look the same, it’s too quiet, he- he was looking for something. What is he looking for? Why is he here, even? He needs to... he needs to get to the middle. Something’s waiting for him there. He belongs there. But why? What’s there? Why isn’t he there already?

Iskall loses his balance when he trips over his own feet, and smashes with his shoulder into a wall. A loud _crack_ echoes throughout his entire body, and Iskall’s heart would speed up upon hearing it were it able to.

He looks at his arm. The spot where he collided with the wall is cracked. His _skin_ is cracked, revealing a bright layer of gold peeking out from underneath. Huh. So that’s why he feels so slow. Funny. Still leaning against the wall he brings his arm up to inspect it further. Gravelly pieces of dark rock crumble off as he moves. 

His gash wound from before appears healed, however instead of scar tissue, it appears pulled together with gold. _It’s so pretty,_ Iskall thinks. With much effort he brings his other arm up to look as well. His skin is cracked at his joints, revealing the same precious metal shining from underneath.

He slumps down with his back against the wall. A sound not unlike the scraping of a stone pick against bedrock drums through his skull. It’s unpleasant, but soon a handful of pigmen appear before him, must have been alerted by the sound. They’re finally looking at him. They’re looking at him with... with glints in their eyes. 

He can hear their grunting and squealing faintly. They grunt and growl at others of their kind who come too close, raising their weapons against them. Iskall likes it. It makes him feel protected. He wants to get up, but he can’t move. He feels so heavy, so tired. 

The way his skin crumbles, hardens at an alarming rate now that he isn’t moving anymore doesn’t faze him in the least. The contrast between the gold against his dark skin which almost blends into the walls around him is strangely beautiful. _Mesmerizing,_ even. Iskall thinks he understands why the pigmen love gold so much now.

His mouth cracks into a smile as he feels himself being lifted up by them. They carry him through hallway after hallway, Iskall’s enchanted diamond armor crumbling off as if it was nothing as they walk. They enter some kind of doorway, opening up into the middle section of the fortress. The pigmen carry Iskall across the small bridge, hooves clasped tightly around his limbs, flaking off more and more of his stone-like skin. Their grunting and huffing is barely audible now, and Iskall can’t even hear the bubbling from the lava all around him.

They walk down into the small chamber, and Iskall sees now why it was so hard to reach.

This is a _treasure room._ Full of gold blocks. Placed in the middle on purpose, so the pigmen can protect it. _Of course_ this place is like a maze. _Of course_ they’re bringing him here. They love gold. They _adore_ it. 

They place Iskall down carefully in the middle of the room, his back against a block of gold. It feels nice. Warm. He feels at home. This is where he belongs. The pigmen leave him to transform further, stone reaching his bones, rendering him completely immovable. His heartbeat slows down, his breathing slows down, and his thoughts slow down.

Iskall casts a last look at himself. He’s never seen anything like it. What a beautiful block. So unique. He’s going to be sought after, once the humans find out that blocks like him exist. They’ll want to build with him, they’ll want to collect him, they’ll want to _use_ him.

_You’re safe here._

Yes, he’s safe. He’s protected. The pigmen, _piglins_ will protect him. He’s made of gold, after all. Nobody can harm him here. He’s their prized possession. Their treasure. Their gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those new blocks sure are interesting.


	5. Scorching

Jevin winces as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. His landing definitely could have gone better. He should have noticed that his elytra was about to run out of gas, but in his panicked thoughts, _screaming_ at him to _get away_ he guesses he just didn’t notice. And now he’s going to pay the price.

He’s stranded. He’s lucky he didn’t land in the expansive ocean of lava surrounding him, he supposes.

But just because he doesn’t have bones, doesn’t mean that he can’t take fall damage. His legs feel both numb and too sensitive at the same time. Jevin pulls his broken elytra from his back and promptly tosses it into the lava, watching it sizzle and burst into flames as the lava consumes it within seconds.

Stupid equipment. He can’t rely on anything, can he? Good riddance.

Jevin scans his surroundings. East, lava. South, more lava. West, nothing but lava. North, la-

...An island?

It’s far away, but it’s there. It’s bigger than the sorry excuse for an island he’s currently standing on, at least. He’ll have more luck surviving on solid ground, that’s for sure. Jevin bites through the pain in his legs that surely would be broken, were he human, as he strains to count how many blocks away it is. 

He then counts how many blocks he’s got left in his inventory. It’s not looking good.

But he still has his pickaxe! He can mine this island for all it’s worth, and build a bridge. Jevin pulls out his diamond tool and gets to work, careful not to let any lava flow in. Soon he’s juggling his last few cobblestone slabs and barely half a stack of netherrack in his hands, ready to build.

It isn’t enough.

Just a few blocks more and he would have made it, what a joke! What a cruel, cruel joke. Jevin stares at the ground, so tantalizingly close, but too far away to reach with a mere jump. 

He knows he won’t make it. He knows it’s not even worth trying. But something... something tells him that it’s all he has. Either he jumps, or he perishes on that small island in the middle of the ocean. Either he risks it or a ghast will come along and blast him into the lava. Either he tries, or... 

Jevin takes a deep breath, psyching himself up.

He won’t be beaten so easily.

The gap looks impossibly far away, but he has to _try._ It’s all he can do. He locks his eyes on the bank on the other side, takes a running start, and jumps.

And he makes it.

With a _squelch_ he lands on his hands and knees, safe, on the bigger island. Jevin barks out a laugh, surprised at himself, the adrenaline of the situation pushing him onto his feet again, barely even registering the pain from before. Filled with the slightest sliver of confidence, he begins walking along the shoreline. 

Jevin soon feels himself start to drag his feet, panting at the extreme warmth that he’s in now that he’s right next to the lava. He does himself a favor and takes off his diamond armor, tossing it aside. It’s dirty and busted, and wouldn’t save him from a fiery death anyway. He takes off his hoodie for good measure, too. 

Almost instantly he feels better, which is strange. He’s still hot, but Jevin notices that he isn’t melting or sweating at all. Usually even being on top of the roof of the Nether is unbearable for him without a stack of blue ice to help him cool down, but his blocks have long since melted. He shouldn’t be okay with this, he knows, but... It’s- it’s comforting? No. _No._ Whatever it is, it isn’t him.

Still, he feels weird. His sides feel weird. He clutches his torso but begins to shake and breathe heavily when his fingers _slip into his skin._

Jevin pulls his hands away immediately, and reluctantly looks down. There’s horizontal slits on his sides, opening up slightly with each step he takes, revealing his insides. It’s sickening to look at, but also kind of fascinating? That- that wasn’t there before, was it? Was this caused by his fall from earlier? Why hasn’t it healed already?

No, it’s not supposed to be there. Jevin pokes at the skin, peels at the slits and digs his fingers into his flesh, deeper than before. It doesn’t hurt at all. He feels so hot. When he breathes in he can see the layers separate, and as he walks air flows in, cooling him down.

Jevin is so wrapped up with what's going on with his own body that he doesn’t notice the small object in front of him, and trips over it.

Regaining his balance he turns back, scanning the ground. It’s hard to see, but when he spots it he wishes he hadn’t.

It has started to rot, but it’s clear what it is. 

An arm.

An entire arm, intact, from the tips of its fingers all the way up to where it would connect to a shoulder. Like it just, _fell off,_ somehow.

Jevin keeps himself from throwing up, _forces_ himself to look away. There’s a trail of blood leading away from it. It’s tough to make out against all the red surrounding it, but it’s visible. Hope and dread fills him. That was clearly a human arm, which means that someone must have passed through here.

But at the same time, what in the world could have caused them to _lose_ their _whole arm?!_ Jevin pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to think.

There’s only one thing he can do. He takes a couple of deep breaths, feeling the air cool him from the inside, and starts following the trail.

He doesn’t know how long he has been walking when he almost trips over something unusual again. A pile of... clothes? No, armor. Yellow armor, dusted with red. Though whether that’s from netherrack or blood Jevin isn’t sure. Its color stands out against the deep reds of the Nether. It doesn’t belong here. It certainly didn’t come from here.

He... he knows that color. Somewhere deep in his mind he recognizes it. Jevin racks his brain, when he’s pulled from his thoughts by noises he’s never heard before. Chirps and gargles, off in the distance. 

Jevin turns his head so fast he’s afraid it might snap off. He sees a lone, strange new creature out in the lava lake, about a chunk’s distance away. The creature chirps and turns to face him. It stares at him, curious. Its mouth curled into what could be called a smile. It studies Jevin with a look as if... as if he _recognizes_ him.

He’s never seen anything like it. Not in the overworld, and not in all his time down here, either. The creature is bright red, with a large body and head, walking _on top of_ the lava with two legs, and it, it doesn’t appear to have... arms... 

Jevin has seen what happened to Tango. He saw Bdubs being consumed by his surroundings. It haunts his every step. Hell, he knows that he himself is... _changing,_ as well.

But the armor. The trail... there’s no doubt about it.

That creature in the distance is Xisuma.

He must have lost his other arm somewhere in the lava.

Jevin catches a glimpse of its eyes, and that is what settles it. Warmth spreads through Jevin’s chest. He- it’s him. _It’s really him!_

Something tells him to _just walk towards him. You’ll be fine._ And Jevin listens, not even considering the consequences for a split second. He’s been so careful up until now, and it finally paid off. And why should he be bothered? He finally found him!

Jevin steps into the lava without a second thought. It’s- it’s hot. Bright white hot and it _hurts_ but he pushes through. He has to push through, he has to get to Xisuma. He has to endure the pain. He can’t stop now, not when he’s so close. It’s like his mind is melting away, his only goal being getting across that lake, getting to Xisuma. From the corner of his eyes he can see what’s left of his clothes burn away, his legs turning dark.

He hears sizzling. It takes a moment for Jevin to register that it’s _his body_ that’s making that sound. This- is this really a good idea? He thinks, but before some unknown voice in the back of his mind can answer he sees Xisuma’s eyes again. It’s unmistakably him. He _knows._ He’s meant to be here. Jevin drags himself further, pushing on. His skin, his body might be burning, but he’s still squishy. He feels warm.

He winces and hisses at the pain, willing himself to ignore it until it becomes too much. Jevin does what feels natural and jumps, providing temporary relief from the white heat before he goes crashing into it again. He doesn’t sink, though. He just sort of, floats, on top of the lava as the burning feeling spreads up his legs. It’s unbearable. Each step is too heavy, too _slow,_ so he jumps again. And again, and again. Eyes locked onto Xisuma. He’s so close. So close.

The next time he jumps he trips when he lands, dropping to his hands and knees. The dark color spreads further and further, but Jevin doesn’t care. The pain fades away with each second that he spends in the burning hot liquid. His body sizzles and gargles as it reshapes itself. He loses feeling in his hands, his toes, and even his legs. A small part of him is scared, but that too fades away. Xisuma looks at him with curious eyes, and Jevin can’t help but smile at him. Knowing that X is waiting for him makes him feel safe.

Jevin's body loses shape, but he finds that he can still jump. It’s the only thing he can do, the only thing he can think about.

And then finally, _finally_ he lands next to him. Xisuma warbles and chirps at his presence, walking around him and prodding at him with his legs, his tendril-like protrusions tickling him all over.

He looks happy. Happy to be here. Happy to have Jevin at his side.

Jevin is lost for words. He can’t even manage to open his mouth to reply, but he hopes that Xisuma knows how happy he is to be here with him, too. He jumps up and down, showing X how he feels. It’s all he can do, but it’s alright. 

Their mission was a success. 

They did it. 

They found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not over yet. The Nether wants more.


	6. Settlement

“Ready?” Stress says, looking at the portal in front of them.

“When am I ever, really.” Zedaph answers, prompting her to chuckle softly.

 _It’s safe._ He thinks to himself. _It’s safer when we’re together. Together we’ll find them. We will._

That’s what Stress told him, too. Zedaph would have never expected to find someone else standing in front of the shopping district portal, but Stress’ presence was a nice and welcome surprise.

He would have gone in without her. He’d made his decision, and he can still feel the unease gnawing at his insides. But knowing that Stress had the same idea, he feels a lot better. They’re together, they can do this. If no one else is going to go after the missing hermits, _they_ will.

They’ve been gone for almost two entire weeks. No messages. No contact. No sign of life at all. It’s been driving Zedaph mad. Which is exactly why he found himself standing in front of the portal he’s technically supposed to avoid at all cost. And he’s not alone.

Stress nods at him. “Let’s go.”

They step into the portal, disappearing into purple particles and rematerialize in the other dimension in mere seconds.

It drops them off in the middle of a strange red forest, filled with twisted plants, all the color of blood.

Immediately Zedaph feels compelled to explore this strange new biome. His inner nature calling him to ‘science it up’ and figure out why everything looks so different, so new. He wants to explore but the creatures inhabiting this forest aren’t too keen on their presence. The two hermits are quickly chased off, out of the forest. Running over uneven ground, jumping over gaps and ledges, and trying not to look back at the creatures chasing them with no sign of giving up.

They don’t have time to pause, breathe, or eat. Running is starting to become difficult, and the heat surrounding them on all sides isn’t helping in the slightest. Zedaph guesses that they must be hundreds of blocks away from the portal, now. Getting back is going to be tough. They’re chased all the way to another forest. A blue one, the colour of which throws Zedaph off more than he would have expected.

The hog-like creatures that were chasing them stop promptly, and turn around as if... as if they’re afraid. 

Despite the heat Zedaph’s blood runs cold. Afraid of _what?_

He tries his best to catch his breath, thankful but also worried about why those creatures suddenly stopped their chase (or was it more like a hunt?). He looks at the ground. It’s soft and blue, something in between grass and mycelium, if he had to guess. Something about it looks... off.

“Zed!” Stress pokes him in his side, pulling him from his thoughts and almost making him lose his balance. Once he finds his footing he clutches his chest, glaring at Stress for scaring him like that.

“Wh- _what?”_ He says.

 _“Look!”_ Stress smiles, and gestures around vaguely.

Zedaph looks at the forest behind her. The turquoise fog in the distance, the vines creeping up from the ground, and more of the blue mycelium growing in between the netherrack as far as he can see. He looks at the immensely tall mushrooms, making him feel so, so small. The blue color feels... wrong, against all the red everywhere else. Zedaph doesn’t feel good about this at all.

“It’s... beautiful, isn’t it?.” Stress says. Zedaph nods, if only to agree with her so they can leave sooner. The faster he’s out of here, the better, something tells him.

“Come on! Let’s explore!” Stress tugs at Zedaph’s arms, trying to get him to move _deeper_ into the forest. Zedaph quickly tugs his arms back.

“We have to find all the others, first.” He says curtly. 

“But- it’s safe here, just a few minutes can’t do any harm, can it? I thought you wanted to explore? Those creatures are afraid of this, so-”

“-Exactly!” Zedaph interjects. “Trees shouldn’t be _blue._ Mushrooms aren’t supposed to be blue! You know what else in nature is blue? _Poison._ It’s warning us to stay away. Those pigs had the right idea for chasing us all the way over here. Let’s get out while we still can.” He turns around, ready to leave.

“No, no no no no don’t go!” Stress grabs Zedaph’s arm and tugs him back. “I bet I can make a lot of amazing new potions with all of these.” Stress picks and holds out a single blue and orange spotted mushroom, and Zedaph recoils, taking a few steps back to keep his distance from it. He’s never been a fan of mushrooms, and frankly, these ones are giving him the creeps.

“Come on, Zed. Aren’t they pretty? Don’t you want to see what else-”

 _“No!”_ Zedaph tugs his arm loose. “It’s interesting and new, sure, but I can’t help but feel...”

“What, are you _scared?”_ Stress laughs, but she stops when she sees Zedaph flinch at her words. She drops the mushrooms to the ground.

“So what if I am?” Zedaph says. “I- I am, okay? I _am_ scared. Please don’t go in there alone. We’re strong together. We need to find the hermits. That’s why we came here, isn’t it?”

Stress opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but then sighs and looks down.

“I suppose so, yeah. C’mon, let’s go through together. Lord knows I don’t wanna go back the way we came from, what with those hogs chasing us.” She smiles softly, and reaches out her hand for Zedaph to take.

He puffs up his chest a bit and locks his arm with hers, and then they set off into the strange blue forest. Into a biome unlike anything they’ve ever seen. Into something unknown and unexplored.

They walk.

They walk for a good while. At least it’s peaceful enough here that they can stop to rest every now and again, and they can take the time to eat some carrots too, which is a welcome change of pace.

The forest is bright, with the giant mushrooms growing some sort of glowing substance underneath their caps. If Zedaph didn’t know better he’d say that they ended up in a completely new dimension.

But the forest feels endless. They walk in relative silence for what feels like hours. At some point Zedaph can’t take the oppressive feeling of being surrounded by so much potentially harmful plantlife, and he starts up a conversation.

“I miss them.” He says.

Stress looks up at him and nods. “So do I. But we will find them. They’re close, I can tell.” She scratches her arms absentmindedly.

This catches Zedaph’s eye, and he gasps when he sees what looks to be a rash on her arms. Except that it is _blue._

“Does...” He begins. “Does that hurt?”

“What?” Stress looks down. “Oh! No, not at all. It’s fine, I’m sure of it.”

Zedaph bites his lip. “You don’t suppose that the mushrooms from earlier have anything to do with it, do you?”

“Gosh, I hope not.” Stress says, and continues scratching.

Not feeling up for any further conversation anymore, Zedaph keeps silent. He’s more mindful of where he walks, careful to avoid stepping on mushrooms, lest they explode into a cloud of spores and dig into his skin, or something. He... doesn’t want to think about it. The faster they find Xisuma the better. The faster he’s out of this forest the better.

After a while they stop to rest. Not a full night’s sleep, just a little nap. At least, that’s what they planned. When Zedaph wakes up he feels disoriented, he can’t tell how much time has passed, and he is even more creeped out by the forest around him. He looks around and finds Stress still asleep and he goes to wake her up. 

When he gets close he notices those... _things_ growing from Stress’ arms look like they’ve gotten bigger. Bulging out slightly. Pushing out of her skin. Zedaph’s heart sinks in his chest. They do indeed look like smaller versions of the blue and orange mushrooms scattered all around the biome they’re in.

But Stress tells him not to worry about it. She can barely feel them, it’s probably fine. Zedaph agrees with her but doesn’t link his arm with hers this time around. They walk and walk and walk and the forest seems endless. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Zedaph asks, and Stress looks up at him, smiling. He can see mushrooms starting to pop up from her cheeks, in between her hair and flower crown as well. They have to find Xisuma. They have to find him _fast._

But eventually they walk themselves to exhaustion, with little food left. Stress jokes that they can probably eat the mushrooms or make a stew out of them, but Zedaph doesn’t like this. It feels like he’s suffocating, being constricted by invisible vines, and he’s so _tired._ He’s worried about Stress, even _if_ she tells him not to. How could she possibly be okay with _mushrooms_ growing out of her body like that?!

Stress yawns, and Zedaph unconsciously copies her.

It’s an unspoken rule that you never sleep in the Nether. Everybody knows this. It has never occurred to Zedaph to even think about why that is until now.

Is it because of the mobs? The ghasts which could blow up your shelter even while you’re asleep? Is it because of the risk of rolling out of bed and falling into lava? Is it to prevent sleepwalkers from getting themselves into dangerous situations? 

He knows that beds spontaneously explode. But they don’t even have beds, so they should be alright, no? They slept for a bit earlier, and that seemed to have gone relatively well given the circumstances. God, he’s too tired to be thinking about this for too long. There’s really only one way to figure out whether it’s safe to sleep or not.

Stress makes herself comfortable against the stem of one of the trees, and Zedaph picks a nice looking patch of netherrack just a few blocks away from her.  
Partly because their shared body heat would be too much to bear, and partly because he’s afraid that whatever’s happening to Stress could possibly spread to him as well. Either way, Stress looks okay with it, so he’s not going to worry about how his actions come across too much.

But as freaky as he finds Stress’ situation, Zedaph isn’t prepared for what he wakes up to.

He barely even recognizes her.

Zedaph walks closer, going against himself. He’s shaking, but- Stress... _Stress..._

The mushrooms have grown significantly, taking root deep within her muscles, making it so that she can’t move without hurting herself. Zedaph stares in horror, the _fear_ in her eyes as she must realize what’s happened to her. 

“Zed- help, I can’t... I can’t move.” She whispers. “I can’t get up, please...”

Her voice is quiet, he realizes. It can’t be that their roots burrow all the way into... _No._ But then again, they’re also starting to sprout out of the corners of her eyes, and even her ears. Blue and orange capped fungi covering her body and peeking out from every crease.

Zedaph shakes his fear, promptly forgetting about it with the rush of adrenaline (or is it panic?) Stress’ sight causes. Temporary bravery surging through his veins. 

He rushes up to her to try and pull her up, off of the ground. But the god awful _ripping_ noises accompanied by Stress’ shrieks of pain cause Zedaph to let go of her immediately, dropping Stress back to the ground.

Tears stream down Stress’ face, making their way down and around the different parasitic protrusions.

She- she’s grown _roots._

_She’s stuck._

Zedaph watches in disbelief as they appear to grow in fast-forward. Digging into the ground further, binding Stress to her spot underneath the giant mushroom. Some sick form of punishment for her trying to escape their grip.

“You have to go, Zed,” Stress says, trying to keep her voice steady. “Find X, he’ll know what to do-” She coughs.

Zedaph shakes his head. He can’t. He _wants_ to get out of here so badly, but he can’t leave her. They were supposed to be stronger together! How will he survive on his own? How can he make sure that Stress will be okay when they get back? _If_ they get back?

“It’s okay. The mushrooms will protect me.” Stress smiles despite everything. “Xisuma can change me back, just go.” Her fingers twitch, but her arms don’t move. They can’t move. Zedaph notices the speed at which the mushrooms grow picks up almost magically, claiming more and more of Stress, until she’s barely recognizable anymore.

He closes his eyes and turns around. He doesn’t want the last image, his last memory of Stress to be... _that._

He runs.

He runs and doesn’t care to look where he’s going. The image of Stress haunts him. Her face twisted and contorted in pain when he tried to get her out of there. The... the _mushrooms_ growing from her skin, using her as food when she’s still _alive._

Zedaph runs in a straight line, determined to finally get _out_ of this... this _warped forest._ It’s too constricting. It’s all too much. He can feel his exhaustion pushing away at the adrenaline, but still he powers through. Zedaph’s had enough of mushrooms. He’s had enough of it all.  
He wants to go _back,_ back to the overworld. Back to the other hermits. He just wants it all to end. He wants to wake up and find that it was all a nightmare. He wants to wake up to Xisuma and Tango and Stress and all the others home safe. God, if only he can find the portal again.

He runs and isn’t paying much attention to his surroundings at all, so he doesn’t realize he’s reached the end of the forest until he almost launches himself off of a cliff, straight into an ocean of bubbling lava.

He’s out.

He looks at the cliff. At the height from which he would have fallen had he not stopped running. None of it looks familiar- this must be the other side from where they initially entered the forest from. Zedaph takes out his communicator, and immediately feels like slapping himself. Why didn’t they think to try and use it earlier? It- it would have saved so much time. It could have saved... _Could_ it have saved..? 

Zedaph shakes his head. No time to think about that now. He has to get back. He has to find that blood-red forest again. He looks around to check his surroundings. The edge of the cliff in front of him and the seemingly endless expanse of boiling ocean. 

He checks the straps on his elytra. Then it dawns on him.

He’s never going to find them, is he? 

The other hermits who went in here before him were so much more capable than him. And they were all together, too. He’s all alone now. He’s just one person. What in the world possessed him to go into the Nether _alone?!_

He needs to get reinforcements. If Stress- If she was ready to go in with him he’s sure he can convince the others as well. He’ll be more prepared next time. He just has to find the portal back. He can do this. He can _do this._

A quick glance at his coordinates tells him that he’s hundreds of blocks away from spawn. Still, that should be manageable.

Zedaph looks back at the blue forest. It looks much nicer when he’s not actually in it, he supposes. But he’s never in a million years going through that again. He’s not going to risk flying over it, either, but there should be a way around. There’s always a way around.

 _I’m sorry, Stress._ He thinks. _I’ll find Xisuma for you. Just not today. I’ll get the others, and then I’ll be back as soon as possible._

Casting a last glance back before turning around, Zedaph shoots off into the deep red sky.

It isn’t long before a new kind of biome catches his attention. And how could he ignore it? How could he possibly ignore the ash floating in the air as he himself flies through? It _tickles._

Zedaph quickly turns around in mid-air, looking back at the way the ashes whirl behind him in the gust of air he creates. He can’t help but laugh, and starts descending to the ground, only now truly looking at what kind of place he’s found himself in.

It’s... it’s _breathtaking._

Zedaph barely manages to land on one of the clusters of stone, almost slipping and tumbling into a pool of lava underneath it.

The lilac fog in the distance gives the entire area a dream-like effect. Zedaph looks at the spires of stone, again something he has never seen before but he wants to inexplicably run his fingers across so badly.

He jumps down from his platform and starts to climb up to a higher point. He could fly, but the way the stone sounds underneath his shoes when he walks over it is just too pleasing to his ears. He runs his hands along the different kinds of rock, feeling the different textures. Some are warmer than others, some leave behind some dust on his hands from how dry and old they are. If he didn’t know what the Nether was like before, he would guess that this all has been here for thousands of years.

Zedaph climbs until his vision is filled with only this amazing new biome. Expanses of the textured grey stone, alternated with the darker rocks fill his eyes. The purple fog looks even more amazing from up here, the ash dancing as it flutters down like snow. The lava pools hidden in the ground and behind pillars of stone give the area a mysterious character.

There’s slimes in the distance but they either can’t see him or they are ignoring him. Zedaph sees nothing wrong with either option.

Zedaph breathes in the air. It’s warm, comfortingly warm. He can’t help but smile. It’s so _pretty._ It feels so _right._

He plops down, legs dangling over the edge of the platform he found himself on. Ashes land in his hair and on his clothes. He wipes at them, even if it doesn’t appear to do much. 

He takes in the sights for god knows how long. Breathing in the ashes and the fog, head in his hands as he marvels at the beauty of what is arguably the most dangerous biome in this dimension.

Zedaph laughs. It tickles. The ashes tickle his nose, his cheeks, every part of him. He would move his hands to scratch but he can’t seem to be able to. He’s tired, he guesses. Who knows how long he’s been walking and running and flying since he came down here? He deserves some proper rest after all that.

His mind can’t comprehend what’s happening to him. The dust, the ashes are starting to pile up. They bury into his skin, weigh him down. They seal his skin off from the heat, bonding to his clothes, the ash he breathes in changing him from the inside as well.

He realizes too late _why_ he can’t move.

_He’s turning to stone._

The other hermits, they- they must have undergone something like this too. They must have been taken, _swayed_ by these new biomes as well. By the Nether itself.

He can’t move. He can’t escape. He’s- oh god... he isn’t getting out, is he? This isn’t a dream. He’s never waking up. This will be his final resting place, won’t it?

At least... At least he picked a spot with a nice view.

Zedaph looks in the distance. It really is beautiful. 

He wonders, in the back of his mind, if the others are still out there, somewhere. If they’re still fighting against the Nether’s control. And if they’ve seen the beauty of his place as well, or if they’re gone for good.

He wishes they could be here. He wishes they could see it and be here with him.

No, the others _are_ here, he can feel it. 

They’re welcoming him.

Zedaph breathes out for the last time. He feels warm. He feels safe. He feels at _home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two for the price of one? What a steal!! >:3c


	7. Purple Tears

“Anyone else also feeling that same pull?”

Wels sucks in a breath through gritted teeth when he sees more than half of the remaining hermits nod and raise their hand. 

He felt it too. He can still feel it. 

It all started when Xisuma went missing, he guesses. Wels doesn’t know if their admin made a wise choice slipping away in the middle of the night. Xisuma never could have disappeared unnoticed. He did his best trying to keep them all out of the Nether, but through his disappearance he accidentally made it so that more and more hermits followed after him. Gone into the other dimension, never to be seen again.

It’s been weeks. Weeks without any message from the rescue team. Weeks since Stress and Zedaph have gone missing. Weeks since Wels found himself enamored by his own Nether portal. Its swirling patterns hypnotizing him, the space-warping particles whispering when he lays in bed at night. He blocked his portal off, like many others have done too, but he couldn’t bring himself to deactivate it. Afraid that he might fall through by accident. Afraid that he might anger some kind of entity that is holding his friends hostage.

Joe, being their temporary admin in this situation, called all the remaining hermits together. They were planning on shutting down the portals for good. None of them wanted to admit it, none of them wanted to say it out loud. Still holding onto the thought that they haven’t lost them down there for good. But then the Nether started... spilling through. It first began at xB’s base, affecting the flora and fauna of the area. Changing it.

xB evacuated to Hypno’s base for the time being, but it’s only a matter of time until the Nether starts leaking through other people’s portals as well. 

So here they all stand, in the shopping district. Anxious. Paranoid. None of them have gotten even close to a full night’s sleep. It scares them. The thought that they could break at any moment and enter the Nether, only never to return scares them. Wels would be lying if he said it didn’t scare him too.

But this is exactly the time in which Wels has to be brave. After what happened at xB’s base no one else has dared to even get close to the portals. No one has dared to try and deactivate them, even if it would guarantee their safety. Maybe it’s because they all still secretly hope for the return of their admin. The return of the rescue party, and the other missing hermits who they assume have been claimed by the Nether as well. Or maybe they’re all waiting on the _OK_ to enter their portals. To explore the new landscapes, find out what it is that’s calling them, and where their friends have been taken to.

“I’ll do it.” Wels says, causing the hermits to turn their heads.

“I’ll deactivate the portals. Every last one.”

They look at him with sadness and understanding in their eyes. They know they’re not coming back. They know it’s best for them if they close this part off, move on. Protect themselves, and properly mourn their lost friends.

Joe walks up to him and Wels can see the exhaustion in his eyes. He knows that with the goodness in Joe’s heart, he never would have dared to ask. But that is why Wels stood up and said it himself. He has to be brave. He _knows_ it’s dangerous. He _knows_ he might not come back. But what’s his life if it means the other hermits can keep living in peace? They’re all tired, they’re all exhausted. If Wels doesn’t do anything right now, they might all eventually fall prey to the changed dimension.

Joe puts his hand on Wels’ shoulder and looks into his eyes.

“Thank you.” He says. Wels looks at him, at the rest of the hermits, and nods. He turns on his heels and goes to prepare himself for his mission.

It’s grueling. 

Sure, Wels was delighted to find that actually destroying the portals is rather easy; he just has to mine a single block of obsidian for it to stop working. He even mines the entire thing, just to be sure that it can’t be reactivated.

But with each portal he destroys it becomes harder and harder.

The whispers. The _screams._

It buries its way inside of his head and makes him its home. It has always been there. It doesn't want to go. It doesn’t want to let go of its grip of this world. It came to them to get them. To take them all home. They’re ignoring it. It wants to be heard. It wants to be _seen._

Wels keeps singing shanties in his head to keep himself sane. To stick to that rhythm he created for himself. To pull himself through, to assure himself that he’s doing the right thing, despite all the thoughts telling him otherwise.

He quickly loses track of time. Days must have gone by already, travelling by elytra to the furthest corners of the land to find and mark off every portal. He can’t miss a single one. He can’t afford to. 

Wels tries to reply to the messages in chat, but it’s like he forgets his words as soon as he types them. With each day that passes it dawns on him that he’s losing his mind. Losing _himself._ But it’s okay. It’s okay if it means that the others will be safe, so he presses on. Singing softly to himself, he checks all the industrial districts. All of the mining mesas, deserts, and gravel biomes. Heh, the hermits will have to travel a long way to get their supplies from now on.

After what feels like an eternity he finally reaches the last portal. All the way over at xB’s abandoned base.

xB wasn’t lying, it looks... horrifying. _Mesmerizing._

Wels chuckles to himself. His base really looks like an abandoned village, now.

The strange new plants, the pink and blue grass taking over, _consuming_ the overworld. The vines look alive with an energy that Wels can’t quite explain, but it sends a chill down his spine.

It’s been getting harder and harder. The screams the portals give when they’re destroyed haunt him wherever he goes. Harsher, more painful each time. He doesn’t know how much longer he would be able to go, and he’s grateful to know that this is the very last one.

Wels sets foot onto the strangely soft, otherworldly grass, shivering when he sinks into it slightly. He walks toward the swirling portal. It both calls to him and yells at him to get away. Wels pushes through, pushes against it and wills himself not to fall for it. He slashes at the grass creeping up at him, at the vines that curl around his feet to either keep him in place or drag him in.

With another slash from his sword the plants curl away and retreat, allowing Wels to reach the final portal. He pulls out his pickaxe and swings. It hits the obsidian with a cry that shakes his very core. He swings again, and again. Each time the clank of diamond against stone it shrieks harder, louder. Wels begins to feel dizzy. Sick, even. Nauseous. _Finally_ he breaks the first obsidian block, but the portal seems to hang on, clinging onto the remaining stone. 

It swirls and shrieks and its purple laps at Wels’ feet as he continues to swing his pick. He’s tired. His very bones ache, his limbs feel like they could give at any moment. Wels can feel himself being pulled away, but this portal has to be destroyed as best as he can. It screams, its screams pierce his mind. He pushes on. For the hermits. For his _friends._ They can’t and shouldn’t be able to ever rebuild it. 

The portal doesn’t want to be erased. Still, it retreats back into the Nether.

And it takes Wels with it.

Wels opens his eyes to a familiar red landscape. He turns around and sees that the portal he came through is broken.

It worked. There’s... There's no way back.

But at least the hermits are safe.

Exhausted, Wels drops his pick. It clatters against the stone underneath his feet. Wels looks at his hands and sees that he’s shaking. It makes sense, he guesses. He’s been working at it, against the call of the Nether non-stop. He can finally rest. The Nether has stopped screaming at him.

_Because he’s finally here._

He sits down. It’s quiet. Ambient. He notices he’s located on a small island in the middle of a lava lake. The soft, distant bubbling of lava is a treat to hear after how many days of constant otherworldly screaming.

Wels is glad the hermits are safe, of course, but he can’t help the tears dripping down his face. He knows he could, he _should_ look for the missing hermits, now that he’s here. But he... he’s so tired.

He rests his head against the obsidian pillar behind him. It feels nice and cool to the touch. 

Wels’ hands have stopped shaking. He looks. Oh. He supposes that they simply _can’t_ shake as much. He tries to curl his fingers, but they won’t move. Figures. His breathing becomes more shallow, and he vaguely notices the dark color that his armor has started to take on.

It’s so warm down here. Wels can feel the sweat rolling down his back. It makes his armor stick to his body uncomfortably, yet he somehow feels both warm and cold at the same time. More tears drip down his face, onto his unmoving, darkening hands. 

Purple.

His tears are _purple._

Wells pulls and scratches at his armor, but it doesn’t budge. His chestplate, his gauntlets, even his helmet. They all appear to fuse to his skin. But that’s okay. He’s okay with it. He’s protected the hermits. He’s done what he could to serve them. The Nether can have its revenge on him, if it means it’ll keep the others safe. 

He gets into as comfortable a position as he can, and lets the transformation wash over him. It starts picking up speed now that he isn’t fighting it anymore- His now dark armor clinging tighter and tighter around his limbs, his own veins beginning to shine through in an eerie purple glow that seems out of place for how red his surroundings are.

Wels realizes he’s been crying all this time. Tears now steadily rolling down his face in perfect drops, splashing onto his armor, seeping into his skin.

Are they tears of sadness? Happiness? Relief? 

Wels wants to look up, to look away from himself, see anything but his changing body, but his head appears stuck. Fused to the obsidian behind him. He can feel the dark stone spreading across his cheeks, making its way to his eyes. Wels keeps them open with the last of his efforts despite everything, before they’re covered in stone and shut forever.

From the corner of his eyes, through his tears which stain his vision with a subtle purple fog, he can see two... _creatures_ in the distance. Wels can’t for the life of him remember their names, or if he ever knew them at all. They look happy. Wels would smile if he could. He wishes he could join them. But maybe they’ll come over to his little island sometime, he thinks. 

He won’t be alone, then. 

More tears drip down his textured face. The obsidian is almost _mocking_ him. Making Wels into what he swore he would destroy. But he knows that the hermits are smart. They will know not to ever rebuild a portal. They will know to stay away.

He can’t breathe, though it appears he doesn’t need to anymore.

Wels is consumed.

But what matters right now is that the hermits are safe. He did what he promised, he protected them.

They’re _safe._

\----

The hermits don’t go back to the Nether after that. With no portals to call out to them, the Nether is silenced. Nobody feels that magnetic pull to the other dimension anymore. It slowly ebbs away as the strange plants and trees that have started spilling through over at xB’s base slowly wither and die.

They mourn the loss of their friends. They’re truly gone, now. Locked behind portals that they all swear they will never relight again.

They’ve only got one way to go, and that is forward.

Torn, their community lives on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and they lived ever after.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and reaching the end!! This has been an adventure and a half! I never expected this to turn out so long, but man! Here we are!! Thank you so so much for your comments and reactions, it was an absolutely amazing experience reading everything when I woke up each time I posted a new chapter ^^ You all fueled me to keep going! <3
> 
> ((Also, if you know what the title is from, props to you! I was hoping to see if someone got it c: ))


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